


Vicissitude

by brokibrodinson



Series: Depravity [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Masturbation, Parent/Child Incest, Shota, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor hesitates, almost shyly, before muttering "Can I sleep with you tonight?"<br/>There's a pause as Haytham considers it. He suspects Connor's motives aren't entirely innocent, and he has work in the morning... still, he can't help but warm to the idea, imagining Connor's small, slender frame pressed up against him while they sleep.<br/>"Come on then," he says eventually, peeling back the covers with an exasperated sigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Haha what a pretentious fic title. I only learned this word yesterday while browsing thesaurus.com
> 
> The shota filth continues. This fic actually takes place _before_ Indolence, but I wrote it second and I don't think it'll really matter if you read it second as well. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **Edit:** I've re-ordered the series so they're now in order of occurrence, rather than when I wrote them.

Haytham has already settled into bed for the night and is well on the way to falling asleep when he hears his door creak open and tentative footsteps into his bedroom.

"Connor?" Haytham says wearily. "It's late, you should be in bed."

"I can't sleep," Connor says sulkily, walking closer to stand by Haytham's large bed.

God help him, it sounds as if Connor's in one of his especially petulant moods.

"What do you want _me_ to do about it?" he asks eventually.

Connor hesitates, almost shyly, before muttering "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

There's a pause as Haytham considers it. He suspects Connor's motives aren't entirely innocent, and he has work in the morning... still, he can't help but warm to the idea, imagining Connor's small, slender frame pressed up against him while they sleep.

"Come on then," he says eventually, peeling back the covers with an exasperated sigh.

Connor pauses for only a second before he's sliding in next to Haytham on the wide mattress, immediately moving so he's flush against his father who settles the blankets back over them both.

Connor takes a while to get settled to his satisfaction, pressing himself chest to chest with Haytham and eventually slinging a leg over his waist in order to be closer still. 

Haytham rolls his eyes but allows it, simply wrapping an arm around his son to hold him close.

It isn't long before Connor's breaths have evened out, every soft exhalation tickling the bare skin of Haytham's chest. Haytham, more than ready to fall asleep himself, is already dozing when he is startled awake by the realisation that Connor is trembling in his arms. 

A nightmare? 

"Shh," Haytham says soothingly, stroking his son's hair. "It's all right, I have you."

Connor whimpers but does not wake up.

"Connor," Haytham says, a bit louder than before. "Wake up. It's just a dream."

The only response is a small moan, almost as though the boy is in pain. Haytham sighs, shifting slightly so he can shake Connor awake. 

That's when he feels it.

Connor isn't having a nightmare; he is _aroused_ , his erection pressing up against Haytham's thigh through his pyjama pants. 

Haytham rolls his eyes. _Typical_. These teenage hormones of his son's are going to be the end of him.

Connor's dream seems to have intensified; his hands are clutching at Haytham's chest as he unconsciously makes little grinding motions with his hips against Haytham's thigh, and a breathy groan tears from his throat as he does so.

Well that’s just _unfair_.

Haytham knows he should push him away, should wake him up and send him back to his own bed so he can sleep in peace.

But he doesn't. 

Instead he lets it continue, lets his son continue to thrust desperately against his body, growing increasingly aroused himself the longer he allows it. 

"Wake _up_ , boy," he orders finally, giving him a slight shake, and is alarmed to discover that his own voice has grown husky with arousal. 

Finally Connor blinks awake, body stilling as he looks up at his father in confusion. 

"D-Dad?" he says questioningly, voice small. "What-..."

Haytham doesn't let him finish, leaning down to capture Connor's mouth with his own. The boy opens up willingly enough despite his confusion, tongue tangling sweetly with his. 

His eyes are closed when Haytham pulls back again, and when they flutter open he looks rather dazed, his cheeks flushed. 

"Dad," Connor begins again, writhing slightly as he tries to get more friction against his cock. "I want-..."

"Shh," Haytham quiets him, twisting slightly so he is flat on his back and then pulling Connor up so he is sitting astride him.  He can feel Connor's unflagging erection against the planes of his stomach, so he pulls pointedly at the waistband of Connor's pants.

Connor flushes further but takes the hint, moving so he can pull them off entirely, followed by his boxers and pyjama top. Discarding them on the floor, he returns to Haytham and climbs back on top of him, breath catching as his bare arousal brushes against Haytham's skin.

His hips jerk forward seemingly of their own accord, making him moan. "Is this-... is this okay?" he asks tentatively, repeating the motion to demonstrate what he means.

Haytham nods. "Do what you need, son," he murmurs sleepily, perversely enjoying the way the reminder of their blood relation makes Connor swallow. He knows it isn't too late to put a stop to this, but the sight of his son, all lean and lovely as he straddles him and grinds his hard cock against his stomach is captivating to say the least. 

Besides, it would be cruel to stop Connor now, his voice breaking into soft, needy pants as he ruts desperately against his father.

Haytham very much wants to touch him, to move him so he is grinding against his own cock, or to take him in hand and watch his face as he falls apart, but he doesn't.

It's bad enough that he's allowing _this_ much, without becoming an active participant. 

He settles for resting his hands on Connor's trembling hips to steady him, and simply lets his son seek his own release the way he wants.

To be fair, this isn't the first time they've engaged in this particular brand of immorality with each other, but it has never progressed beyond the occasional kiss or teasing touch before now. This is a whole new level of depravity.

The thought should not turn Haytham on as much as it does. 

At last Connor seems to be close, his breath stuttering and hips jerking before he comes with a gasp and spills across his father's chest. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, shamefaced as he looks down at the mess he has made.

Haytham reaches up to cup his cheek with one hand. "You needn't apologise," he says softly. "I said it was all right, didn't I?"

Connor nods before climbing off Haytham and slipping silently out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Haytham asks, thinking Connor is just going to sneak off back to his own bed.

"Getting a towel," Connor mutters, slipping into Haytham's connecting en suite and returning swiftly with said towel in hand. He has wet it slightly under the tap, and uses it to clean his release from Haytham's chest.

That done, he drops the towel on the floor with his pyjamas and climbs back into bed, curling comfortably against Haytham's side. He is asleep within moments, leaving Haytham to stare guiltily at the ceiling, still painfully hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I'm not leaving it there! This is chapter 1 of 2.
> 
> Special thanks to Taylor and Victoria for beta'ing and quality testing! I think I'm finally satisfied with it now <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing?” Haytham asks in annoyance, irritated by the interruption.  
> Connor stares at his bare form with wide eyes, gaze lingering on his father’s obvious arousal.  
> “Can I... do something for you?” he asks hesitantly, licking his lips nervously.

When Haytham's alarm wakes him bright and early the next morning for work, he suppresses the urge to snarl at it. He has not slept well, his arousal having prevented him from sleeping until the early hours of the morning. 

Connor grumbles in his sleep beside him, rolling over. He is awake by the time Haytham is about to have a shower however.

"What time is it?" he yawns, stretching.

Haytham glances at the clock. "Seven," he replies.

"Ugh," Connor says eloquently, flopping back down and pulling the covers more securely around himself.

Haytham rolls his eyes, moving into the bathroom and turning the shower on. Stepping under the hot spray, memories from the previous night come flooding back and he is immediately, uncomfortably hard.

Just as he wraps a hand around his cock to take care of himself, the shower door opens and Connor slips through to join him.

“What are you doing?” Haytham asks in annoyance, irritated by the interruption.

Connor stares at his bare form with wide eyes, gaze lingering on his father’s obvious arousal.

“Can I... do something for you?” he asks hesitantly, licking his lips nervously. The boy is a ravishing sight to behold beneath the hot shower spray, skin glistening and wet and tinged pink from the heat. Haytham lets his eyes wander freely, amused by the way Connor determinedly keeps his eyes locked on Haytham’s during the silent assessment.

“What do you intend?” he asks slowly, the slight deepening of his voice betraying his interest.        

Connor swallows, pupils dilating as his gaze drops to rest on Haytham’s cock once more.

“Can I touch you?” he says, half-whispering.

Haytham nods, holding himself still as he watches his son approach his cock with something akin to worship. Soft lips parted slightly in anticipation, he reaches out with his hand and wraps his fingers around the sensitive flesh.

At first he does little more than give it a few shy pumps, obviously a little intimidated by the older man’s girth, but when Haytham does no more than groan softly in appreciation at the handling, he grows in confidence, and is soon exploring his father’s balls with careful fingers and rapt interest. His body is betraying his excitement at the proceedings, his own cock swelling to full hardness between his slim legs.

Once again Haytham knows he should stop this before it goes too far, but he pays it even less mind than he did last night. They have crossed a line, and already Haytham can see that it is a slippery slope that connects all subsequent lines.

So, with only the barest whisper of guilt echoing in his mind, Haytham eyes Connor and murmurs, “Do you want to know what it tastes like?”

Connor stares at Haytham in surprise, obviously having never even considered such a thing. Haytham can see he is becoming increasingly taken with the idea however, watching hungrily as his son’s little pink tongue swipes quickly across his bottom lip.

Finally he nods, eyes bright with eagerness.

“Good boy,” Haytham murmurs, drawing Connor into a heated kiss to show his appreciation. He offers Connor his hand. “Practise first,” he orders, pushing two fingers between the boy’s lips. “Suck.”

Connor obeys without hesitation, drawing the digits further into his mouth and letting his tongue twist around them. It is not long before Haytham can’t stand it any longer; he _needs_ those lips around his cock. He withdraws his fingers and pushes down on Connor’s shoulder, urging him to kneel.

“Go slowly,” he advises. “Or you’ll choke. And watch your teeth.”

Connor just grins up at him, eyes dancing mischievously. Reaching out, he wraps one hand around the base of Haytham’s cock and leans forward to give it a tentative lick, eyes locked on Haytham’s the whole time.

Haytham carefully holds himself still, very aware of how twisted it is to be teaching his son this particular skill. Connor is in no hurry, licking long stripes up his erection before finally taking the tip into his mouth.       

It’s deliciously obscene, watching Connor’s lips stretch around his girth as he takes him in further. He sucks eagerly on as much of Haytham as he can fit into his mouth, treating him as though he is an especially delicious confectionery.

“Good,” Haytham praises him with a satisfied sigh. “Use your hand for the rest.”

Connor hums in acknowledgement, the vibration sending frissons of pleasure along his sensitive flesh before using his hand to stroke at the base. His curious fingers find Haytham’s balls once more and he fondles them carefully, making his father’s breath stutter in his throat.

All too soon, Connor pulls back and smiles impudently up at him. “Is it good?”

Haytham stares down at him with some annoyance. “Did I say you could stop?” he asks softly. Connor’s smile turns sheepish and then his mouth is sealed back around Haytham’s cock, lapping lovingly at it with his tongue.

As much as Haytham is enjoying the delightful little kitten licks Connor is bestowing upon him, he knows it isn’t quite enough to make him come, and he doesn’t want to be late for work.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promises gently, stroking Connor’s wet hair back. “It’s almost time for me to leave.”

Connor pauses, then reluctantly parts his lips and pulls back to let Haytham’s length slip free.

“But you’re still...-” he protests, eyeing Haytham’s cock pointedly.

“I know,” Haytham agrees, removing Connor’s hand on his arousal to replace it with his own. “This way will be faster.”

Connor watches with hungry fascination as his father proceeds to pleasure himself with rough efficiency, his eyes closed as his hand moves in long strokes. Soon he comes with a low groan, painting Connor’s skin with his release before it is washed clean by the water.

Feeling considerably better, Haytham bends down to kiss Connor deeply before stepping out of the shower and dressing for work.

Connor chooses to linger beneath the hot spray, stroking himself lazily and pretending it is Haytham’s skilled hand. By the time he exits the shower, Haytham is just about to leave.

“I’m off,” he informs him, watching Connor towel himself off. “Don’t be late to school.”

Connor rolls his eyes. “When have I ever been late, old man?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Haytham responds disapprovingly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Connor grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be more shota but in the meantime I should return to my prompts oops
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
